Images on the Wind
by TigerVespa
Summary: Niko warned Tris that wind scrying could drive her insane, she just didn't realize how true that was until now.
1. Secrets

Tris used to enjoy the nights. She used to enjoy the sweet release from reality that came with sleep and dreams. She used to enjoy the quiet that crept over the house and entire city. She used to enjoy leaving the windows open to let in friendly harbor breezes, and when it got cold she would just let Little Bear sleep next to her as a living heater. But that was before, when nighttime activities were limited to sleeping, reading, and sewing; before Briar started bringing _them_ home. She had known it would happen eventually – they were all growing up, so it was just a matter of time. But she had not expected him to be so regular with them, for him to bring a different one home every time. And she definitely had not expected it to hurt this much.

As Trisana Chandler lay in her bed with the windows thrown open to any passing breezes, she clenched her eyes closed and tried to shut her ears to the sounds carried in on the wind. She wished that she could just turn it all off; it had gotten to the point where she hardly slept three hours each night, thanks to Briar. Tris fought the images at first, refusing to see them, but they were persistent. The colors seemed to snake tendrils up under her shaking eyelids, brushing her irises and assaulting her corneas. Eventually she had to give up and let them in, already knowing that what they held would plunge the icy dagger farther into her heart. Sometimes she could block the sounds out, but as she got increasingly tired her control slipped, letting them in.

The color images shown two people intertwined on a bed, sheets thrown off in a sweaty, tangled bundle. Tris watched from her own lonely bed as the two figures stripped clothing, dark callused hands gently removing straps, untying laces and pulling down petticoats. She wished with all her might that those hands – as gentle with women as with affectionate bean plants – were touching her, that the clothing being thrown to the ground was her own, that it was her who lay completely exposed under that beautifully sculpted body. As the two began to move, touch, Tris stood up from her own bed and stripped off the sensible cotton nightgown which buttoned all the way to the neck and reached down to her ankles. She slid the breast band and loincloth off herself the same way Briar had done to his conquest, the lay down on her bed and waited for what came next, attempting to reawaken her imagination enough to pretend that it was Briar who touched her body instead of herself.

She watched as the man fondled the beauty's chest, teasing her own nipples until the stood as erect as the woman's in the next room. As Briar's dark, curly head lowered itself to the woman's cunt, Tris tried to imitate the action with her hand, failing miserably. She tossed and turned in her bed, frustration building up as the other woman writhed with pleasure as Briar's wicked tongue – used so often to spar with Tris – lapped at her, bringing her almost to the peak then stopping right before she climaxed. The woman gasped, gripping the man's curls tight enough to elicit a wince from him. She dragged him up, flipped him over, and took his length in her hands. Tris watched the long, pale, elegant fingers dance over his staff, playing with the sensitive tip until he was so hard that he might burst at any second. The redhead silently cursed this stranger; what right did she have to touch Briar? Then she smirked, for she knew what exactly it was the Briar liked in bed due to the many affairs she had witnessed on the wind, and this definitely wasn't his cup of tea.

As the teasing came to a close, Tris opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out the thick, long cucumber taken on the sly from the kitchen. She saw the two position themselves and at the same time positioned the vegetable, then plunged it in the same time the two joined. She opened her mind to the sounds on the wind now, reveling in the sucking sounds, the gasps and hitched breaths. As the moves became more frantic and the sounds louder, Tris also became more frantic, using her envy the same way the other two used lust. Someday, she swore, that would be her in Briar's bed. Someday, after he had gotten bored with the shallowness of all the normal women in Emelan who were content with a one-night stand.

The woman climaxed first, screaming out with sheer gratification as she shook underneath Briar's frenzied movements. He came next, his hoarse exclamation quiet compared to the barbarian's scream. Once again Tris closed her mind to sound, not wanting to hear anything said afterwards. She removed the cucumber from herself; she had not yet figured out how to make herself climax using the vegetable.

At last she could get some sleep, though she dreaded waking up in the morning and pretending like she was none the wiser. Niko had warned her that scrying on the wind could drive her insane, Tris just hadn't realized until now what he had meant. Some things were best left unseen.


	2. Lies

Briar reached out in the darkness and felt the thick, wavy hair of tonight's companion spread out over his pillow. He did not remember this woman's name, nor did he remember the names of any of the others. It did not really matter anyway, for none of them were anything except sub-par substitutes for what he could never have. They all were judged on what they were not, though none of them knew that. Of all the women who had ever seen the inside of his room, there was only one whom he really wanted to lay beside him. Unfortunately, she was the only one – not counting the two foster sisters who he really thought of as blood relations – who had not stretched herself out on his bed and emitted noises which made him blush.

Every time he woke up to see blonde, black, or brunette hair on his pillow, Briar had to recognize that he had been lying to himself the night before. Each time he ran his hands over the smooth skin of another stranger, Briar closed his eyes and imagined it was someone else's skin, that it was a different person in his bed. He knew that this destructive way of trying to forget her would not work, that someday soon it would all end in disaster. But when the choice was between laying alone in bed tormented by phantom hands, drowning in images of scarlet curls, and moving as one with another person who – just for a moment – he could believe was the one he wanted with him, the decision was a no-brainer.

In the mornings he would kindly tell last night's substitute to be gone before the sun rose, otherwise he would have to introduce her to everyone, which was the absolute last thing he wanted. In fact, he would prefer to be stuck in that cave with a horrendous earthquake raging around him than introduce any of the women to his foster sisters, especially Tris. There had been one time early on when he hadn't been quick enough in getting the woman to leave, and therefore when they went down in an attempt to sneak her out without catching anyone's attention, he had been met with three very different expressions. Sandry had been disapproving, though he could tell that she was mildly amused. Daja, on the other hand, was having a very difficult time not surrendering to hysterics right then and there. But it was Tris's expression which had cut him to the bone: she had been glaring so ferociously at him that Briar thought he would instantaneously combust, and miniature lightnings were dancing through her hair. But somewhere far behind the cold fury Briar thought he saw something different, something very close to pain or betrayal. However, Briar dismissed that as wishful thinking, for if Tris was hurt by the visual evidence of his nighttime activities that would mean that she actually felt something other than sisterly affection for him. Which was ludicrous.

This morning Briar managed to get his companion out of the house before anyone was even close to waking up, which meant that he got the luxury of going back to bed and trying to fall asleep with images of snapping gray eyes and prickly red hair haunting his thoughts. Briar didn't know when it was that he had stopped thinking of Tris as a sister and started thinking of her as a woman on the same footing as those he took to bed each night. Perhaps it was when he saw how she treated Glaki; or maybe it was when he realized that out of all of them, Tris was the only one who had actually been hurt by those related to her. It could be any combination of things, but either way it hit him like a ton of bricks the first time a man showed any kind of romantic interest in her.

As a child and young teenager, Tris had always carried a bit of extra weight, but that changed when she had a late growth spurt at age seventeen. She would never be willowy or as graceful as Sandry was, but Tris had definitely left her chubby days behind her. After their catastrophic trip to Namorn, Tris had decided that she actually enjoyed dressing nicely every so often, and therefore she, Sandry, and Daja had completely revamped her wardrobe. Suffice to say, Tris no longer lacked for dance partners at the balls hosted by Duke Vedris.

And Briar hated it. All those courtiers were so _materialistic_. Why should she like them now when they hadn't noticed her when she wasn't dressed in silks and didn't appear to be a court lady? But he never voiced those selfish thoughts, for he knew that beneath her uncaring exterior, Tris enjoyed the attention from the males. What he did not understand was why she had not ever actually gotten involved with any of them. Even he would admit – grudgingly – that some of them were decent enough fellows. But Tris just didn't appear to be interested, and that bothered Briar. He knew she was not like Daja: Tris was interested in men, she just didn't seem to like any of the ones she had met so far. Again, Briar did not bring this up with any of his foster sisters. Daja would just shrug and look at him oddly, Sandry would read too much – or perhaps just enough – into the observation, and Tris would most likely shock him lightly with lightning and tell him to get his neb out of her business. So he stayed silent, and he tried to tell himself that he didn't care that he was running out of time.


End file.
